


sleep

by beespiesandplaid



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-14 03:20:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7150964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beespiesandplaid/pseuds/beespiesandplaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronan can't sleep. Adam is a beautiful distraction from insomnia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sleep

Moonlight plays across the planes of Adam’s face. Ronan was amazed at the speed at which his breathing changed from the rapid breaths of wakefulness to the even inhalations and exhalations of sleep. Perhaps that was the result of too many nights breaking to day before he got to rest – maybe, when you’re hours off are as limited as Adam’s, your body learns how to press the off switch.   
Ronan’s doesn’t follow the same pattern. He can fall asleep in minutes when he needs to dream, but when he is seeking that elusive dreamless state of rest, it is nowhere to be found.   
For now, Adam’s face is there to occupy his attention. The silver light catches on his eyelashes, highlights his cheekbones and the bow of his lip. His jaw is slack in sleep, his whole face soft. He’d never known how tense Adam looked all the time until he saw him like this.   
His skin is bare, warm against Ronan’s own. Adam’s cold toes are pressed against his calf.   
Ronan reaches out, brushes his fingers through the tangle of Adam’s hair, slowly smoothing away the mess he had made of it before they slept.   
This boy is more beautiful than any dream. He remembers something he said to Adam once. Maybe I dreamt you. Those words were nothing short of arrogance on his part. His imagination could not think up something like Adam – ordinary and ethereal mixed with a Henrietta accent and hopes too big for most people to contain. No. Adam was the kind of impossibility that could only exist in reality.   
He looks at the curve of his eyebrow, the small line of puckered scar tissue that came from one of their ill-advised adventures with a shopping cart. He remembers how bruises, blue black and bloody, used to mark him. Now, Adam’s only bruises come from Ronan’s lips.   
Ronan is awake, but he feels like he is asleep – this moment, curled against Adam, a warm tangle of sleep and skin, is more than he ever thought he could have in reality. The absence of guilt proves his wakefulness. Everytime he dreamt Adam he awoke, sick with himself, feeling as though he had violated his friend.   
Not now. Adam is the dreamer in this bed.   
Ronan curls his fingers in Adam’s hand. Adam murmurs and shifts, gripping Ronan’s hand to his chest. Ronan inhales.   
Exhales.   
Moonlight on pale lashes.   
Inhales.   
Skin against skin.   
Exhales.   
Soft shadow, Adam’s breathing like a lullaby.   
Inhales.   
Ronan drifts into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this let me know (or if you hated it let me know. I'm always keen to improve.) 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at morewordsthantime.tumblr.com - so if you enjoyed this and fancy leaving me a prompt, go ahead. :)


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